Te Quiero Solo a Ti
by Ayamari Uta
Summary: Lovino had enough of everything. Feliciano was always better, even in Antonio's eyes, Lovino thought. Well, Antonio just has to stop him from leaving and change his mind about that. SpaMano. ONE SHOT. Better Summary.


**Author's Note: **This was inspired by lunynha, who commented in my Spain blog that she wanted to see something like this.

Enjoy! :D

**Translations:**

Te Quiero Solo a Ti: I Only Want You

(1) Porque: Why?

(2) cosas: stuff, siempre:always

(3) No puedo: I can't, maldición: damn

(4)lo siento: I am sorry

(5) la fortuna de tu abuelo: your grandfather's fortune, te quiero a ti: I want you

(6) Te amo: I love you 3

* * *

Te Quiero Solo a Ti

Lovino had enough of everything.

He took a worn-out suitcase, and unzipped it to throw in his shirts, his military pants, and some watches that he liked to use once in a while. He sniffed as he took a look at his old drawings, and ignored the laughter coming downstairs.

No actually, he tried to ignore it. Every laugh he heard was a harsh blow to his heart, and he wanted to stop hearing it.

His tired but shaking hands held onto the paper as he raised it to eye level. His eyes wavered.

It was a portrait he sought to make of Antonio. It never really worked out, for he could by no means get those shining green eyes right.

Of course, he was really talented at drawing, even if other countries would claim that Feliciano was better.

_**Feliciano.**_

He was always the one who was superior at everything. The only recognized Italy. Lovino wasn't called Italy; it was at all times _**Feliciano**_.

He was ordinary Romano.

He was someone who was deemed _**useless**_. He could not draw as well as Feliciano could. He did not resemble Grandpa Rome at all. He did not have the riches that his brother had. He had little relations with the world. He was cowardly, and he couldn't even clean an entire room without breaking something.

He was not friendly, and he was not lucky with women either. Feliciano and Romeo (Seborga) had more fortune with getting near a pretty woman more than he did.

He was rejected.

When Austria gave Romano away to Spain, Romano felt like he was trading material. Maybe even less valuable than what traders have.

Lovino was not very nice with Antonio, who insisted that he'd be called the boss, and always cursed at him.

However, even though he was of no use, and practically caused a lot of hardships to Spain, he kept him. He would always smile at him, even when nobody else would.

It was comforting.

Just maybe, this time… Maybe this time he had someone who looked at him highly, and considered him more important than Feliciano.

He was happy.

But only for a little while…

Now that he had grown into a developed half-country, he was still looked down upon.

Even Spain would say that Lovino had to be a little more like Feliciano.

And he called Feliciano "Ita-chan" and "Italy".

It was so frustrating to see the only person who he thought was finally going to recognize him laugh with Veneziano.

It really was.

He was ignored by Spain all day because of Veneziano coming over.

_Veneziano._

_Feli._

_Ita-chan._

_ITALY._

He could not stand it. Especially when Veneziano showed off a portrait he made of Spain…

Romano had watched with envy in his eyes as Spain's eyes lit up at the portrait. Spain hugged Italy, and had thanked him in that hyper voice of his.

He himself looked at the portrait, and his heart broke as he realised that it was better than the one he made…

The colours all fit and swam together in a peaceful harmony. What captivated him more was that that Spain's eyes were drawn perfectly, as if Feliciano had observed them for an eternity. His eyes watered as felt a rage filled his chest, something that he never felt before. He left the two laughing countries and slammed the door to his room.

He crumbled up the painting, and threw it at his bedroom's door. He didn't need to keep that.

Actually…

He finally snapped.

Lovino took all of his artwork in his trembling hands and ripped them apart in a fit of rage. He didn't know what he was doing anymore as he destroyed all of it, and tossed it around the dark room. He kicked the cupboard over, leaving a scratch, and threw whatever he could find of his belonging into the suitcase. He closed it shut when he decided that he finished, and slammed the door open.

"Lovi?"

Lovino found himself face to face with Antonio, who was looking at him with a worried glance on his features. Romano scowled at him, and pushed him, surprising the Spanish country.

"What the hell, tomato bastard? Get out of my way!" He demanded loudly.

Antonio gave him a look of misunderstanding. "¿Porque?" **  
**

"What do you mean why? So I can leave this paella stinking house, and go back to my home, dammit." Lovino replied, his hands trembling even more and his heart throbbing excruciatingly. Nevertheless, his grip on the suitcase was still strong.

Antonio finally noticed the suitcase in his hand, and frowned. "Lovi, what are you doing with that suitcase? You can leave your _cosas_ here, if you want. You are almost _siempre_ here-" **  
**

"Don't you get it, you jerk? I am not coming back." He declared, and huffed as he pushed Antonio again. "Get out of the way."

Antonio did not answer, which made Lovino glare at him even more. He finally pushed through him, and made his way to the staircase.

That is, until a warm hand grasped his own, and stopped him.

"Romano."

Lovino didn't reply. He was too startled to. Spain could get scary when he wanted to and the tone of his voice was so _**icy**_.

"Why do you want to leave? Don't you like it here?" He asked softly.

Romano glowered and spun to look at Spain. "I hate you and your house, tomato bastard! That's why I want to leave. Gesu Cristo, can't you just go back to having fun with my cheese stinking fratello, and leave me alone?"

Spain's eyes flashed with a glimmer of hurt, which made Romano almost take it back.

Almost.

"But Lovi, you will come back, si?"

Romano felt a headache coming on. "No, I won't. Get it fucking straight already!"

"Lovino, tell me the truth."

Romano's eyes wavered as he made eye contact with Spain's.

Spain appeared dead serious now.

"Is there something wrong?" He asked again after a moment of silence, this time more warmly.

"I-I don't have to tell you anything, goddammit!" Lovino shook his hand free from Spain's grasp, and glared at him.

"Lovi~. Why-"

Romano released his grip on his suitcase, which landed on the floor with a thud, and clenched his hands into white fists.

"You like Feliciano better anyway! Dammit, you jerk, he is better than me at everything! Feli this, Italy that! I am ITALY too! I am also important. I am not just Romano! I… I… I am… I… I can't draw… But… B-But… But… I try… I try…"

Romano could feel himself falter, and his eyes watered again. He looked down, feeling ashamed. "I can't even k-keep m-myself fr-from being weak in front of y-you, dammit."

Spain stood there silently, a little stunned from the outburst. Romano took his silence as the guy not having anything else to say, and smiled bitterly.

"I bet you even regret taking me from Austria, don't you? You wanted to trade me for my fratello after all. Everyone thinks he is better… Even you. That's why I am not coming back, Spagna. Why do you fucking still pretend to care? I don't have my Grandpa Rome's fortune anymore. I used it all to make my land flourish, dammit."

Spain watched as Romano took his suitcase again, and turned to head towards the staircase again.

'_No, I can't let him go! No puedo, not like this! Maldicion!_' Antonio thought without a doubt.

Spain grabbed Romano by the shoulders and turned him around so they faced each other again. Romano had begun to cry.

"Lovino, lo siento." He apologised, his green eyes set in determination. "Lo siento that I wanted to trade you with Veneziano." **  
**

Romano's eyes widened.

_**Veneziano?**_

"I don't want la fortuna de tu abuelo. Te quiero a ti." **  
**

Lovino huffed and sniffled, trying to stop his tears. "I –I d-don't speak S-Spanish, to-tomato bastard."

Antonio laughed in spite of the situation. "Si, you never wanted to learn. It was so difficult dealing with you, but you were so cute~."

Lovino gave him a hurt look, but then scowled as he heard the last part.

Antonio continued.

"Lo siento that you feel this way. I said that I don't want your riches or resources. I said that I only want you." He admitted, and smiled at him.

Lovino closed his eyes tightly, and shook his head. "You like Feliciano more than me, dammit! Stop lying."

"I don't like Veneziano more than you, Italy." He answered cheerfully despite the sadness in his eyes and cupped his chin to raise his head up, making Lovino face Antonio. Lovino gave him another shocked look.

_**Italy**_…

"Te amo, Lovino." **  
**

Lovino flushed, and averted his eyes. "What are you saying, you jerk?"

"I love you, Lovi~." He declared in his usual singsong voice, and beamed at him.

The Italian country looked down, making Antonio wonder if he said something wrong.

Then he was pleasantly surprised by Lovino's sudden hug. He hanged onto the older country firmly, and Antonio could feel his shirt getting wet by warm tears.

"Lovi, don't cry." He soothed, and comfortably held him.

"I am here." He promised and ran his fingers through Lovino's hair.

"I am always going to be here."


End file.
